A Tale of Crowns and Stars

Naked & Afraid

 A raven cawed again overhead as Armantha stood over Cyra, blinking in the dim light of the woods.

"Can you close your mouth and come on before someone figures out that their little friend isn't coming back?" Cyra smacked the woman's outstretched hand away and struggled to her feet, grunting as she leaned on her injured leg. "You're going to have to explain this to Halewijn on your own, you know. I can't be seen with you." The sentence snapped Cyra out of her shock.

"Then what are you doing here?" Cyra grumbled, trudging over to Armantha's horse absentmindedly.

"Saving your hide, obviously."

"You followed me out here?" Cyra stopped, confused.

"No, I actually followed your little friend out here. He's been stalking around the keep, and I wanted to know what he was up to. Luckily, I was here when he decided to make his move." The woman tossed her quiver over her shoulder before mounting her horse. "My nosey-ness finally paid off." The women were opposite each other, staring but not speaking any further. "Hop on."

"No," Cyra remembered her feud with the woman and stood her ground, despite her left leg aching terribly. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Listen, I know you're mad at me - don't know why - but you're not going to make it out of here before evening with that gash in your leg." The woman pointed at the open wound with a small hand. Cyra looked down at the bloody gash, registering the prickling pain she suddenly felt in the cut area.

"I'll walk on foot before I leave here on your horse, traitor." Armantha's eyes darkened at the insult, and she dismounted her horse in one swift movement.

"What did you call me?"

"Traitor. You heard me the first time." Armantha raised her hand and slapped Cyra so hard her jaw sang out in pain, the metallic taste of the blood in her mouth thickening on her tongue.

"Say anything like that again, and you'll wish you'd never spoken to me in that tone." Cyra slapped Armantha back - tit for tat - and growled,

"Try me." The two women had a short standoff, each sizing the other up before Armantha took a step back.

"I don't have time for petty fights with you, Cyra. What's your issue with me?" Cyra turned around, looking for her dagger as she considered the question.

"You know what you did to Markus." She grumbled. "Don't act innocent. You ran away to the North to avoid being extradited and put on trial. We all know you told Omar where he could find Markus."

"Excuse me? You obviously don't know the truth of that story." Armantha scoffed, pushing her auburn hair back with her dark brown hand. "Is that what Smyrna and Aethelwulf had you believe?"

"It's what Gunnar told me." Armantha laughed mirthlessly, the sound echoing in the woods.

"Gunnar?" Another laugh. "He knew nothing about what happened; may the gods rest his soul."

"Then explain, and do so quickly. Or else I'm not going anywhere with you." Chaossong glinted in the sunlight under a large fern, and Cyra snatched it up before replacing it in her thigh holster.

"I owe you nothing." Armantha tossed over her shoulder, walking back to her horse. "You either get on the horse, or I leave you here to rot. Your choice." When Cyra didn't make any move to get on the horse, Armantha shrugged and dug her heels into the horse's side, leading it onward. Cyra considered her options: she could try to make it out of the woods with little to no resources except the nearby stream, or get on the horse with Armantha and make it out without struggling. Sighing, Cyra made a choice for self-preservation and walked up to Armantha.